


Fear is for the Weak

by thirdtimecharmed



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirdtimecharmed/pseuds/thirdtimecharmed
Summary: “All he had to do was say my name, and there we were… two souls in the same place”Achilles and Patroclus' separation and reunion from their own perspective.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 163





	Fear is for the Weak

_ Human beings can get used to anything _ , he reflected as he stood in the shadowed alcove in the House of Hades that he’d been assigned to so long ago. In his life, he’d gotten used to aching muscles on endless campaigns, blazing sun, treacherous sea voyages, and a certain amount of adulation from those around him. In death, he’d slowly adjusted to the rhythms of the House and the temperament of its denizens. The outbursts of Hades no longer filled him with dread; the sudden appearance of Death himself did not startle him. 

No, human beings can get used to just about anything- it was the breaks in routine that were harder to handle. 

Patroclus was unusual, in life. A calm presence in the wildest of crowds, a question posed in a room full of sycophants. Never hesitant to tell Achilles when a plan was hare-brained, and not often wrong about his predictions. Without his steady presence in his life, Achilles knew, and said often, he would have been a boat without an anchor. 

Achilles didn’t know what he was without Patroclus’ presence in death. He didn’t think about it, slowly growing numb to the feeling of something missing, training his thoughts away from the other half of his soul with a warrior’s patience and dedication. He had made a plan, and wondering about what-ifs would do nothing to change the present. 

Until of course, there was another interruption. 

***

Asking questions was as human as breathing, and even though he could no longer do one of those things, Patroclus was not keen to give up the other. 

Elysium did not have days or nights, but he had spent his eternity on the banks of the Lethe, wondering.  _ Is the relief of forgetting worth more than the memories of loss it would replace? Who decides the difference between a warrior and a man? What is Paradise to one with half a heart? What was he doing here? _

The questions weren’t pleasant, but they were grounding. All he had to mark the passage of time was a growing disdain for the shades of Elysium- happily consuming the highs of life and battle while immune to the lows of failure and loss, no memory of anything but glory and how to pursue it. 

_ At least they leave me alone,  _ he concluded, as a raucous group of shades stumbled past his chosen haunt. It was one of few consolations he held on to, and of course it couldn’t last. 

Clad in red and gold that cut through the blues and greens of Elysium, the stranger was persistent and impossible to account for. Patroclus would perhaps have considered him a footnote: occasionally generous, very polite, but living out a purpose that made no difference to a shade with no hope. 

This particular footnote, however, was wearing a piece of Achilles’ armor. 

***

It was easy to appreciate the ways Zagreus forced the other parts of the house of Hades to change- to watch the lounge be repaired, to see Dusa grow in confidence, to hear Orpheus’ voice once more. Less easy were the disruptions Zagreus and his persistence were attempting to foist on Achilles. 

“Please, lad, let it go. Some things are best left as they are. Focus on your own journey.” 

“Achilles, sir, I can’t do that,” Zagreus insisted, “Neither of you deserve to suffer at the hands of my father.” 

If only it were that simple. Zagreus bringing up Patroclus had thrown every wretched regret Achilles had into sharp focus. Gone were the comforting lies he hadn’t realized he had created for himself- that Patroclus wouldn’t want to see him, that Patroclus had settled into the comfortable mindlessness of Elysium, that he was the only one suffering of the two of them. 

Zagreus hadn’t said a lot about him, and Achilles hadn’t asked. Even in death, separated by a bargain that had seemed like the best he could do, Achilles knew Patroclus like he knew himself. Or- he had. 

Had time and regret eroded the love they once shared? Did he understand Achilles’ choices, in life and in death? Could the things Achilles did in life and in death ever be forgiven? Or did the mortal and immortal wounds run too deep? The tiny whisper of hope that curled around his heart, reminding him  _ he chose to still remember you  _ was the only solace he had. It would have to be enough. 

Achilles had been wounded before, and had healed. Zagreus ripping at old scars was unfortunate, but survivable. Patroclus was safe in Elysium, where he could at least be honored and beloved by others, if not by Achilles. And at least, Zagreus could pass on one last message- although the burden of all the love Achilles had for Patroclus wasn’t a fair burden to lay on to the lad. 

It would have to be enough. 

***

  
  


He hadn’t anticipated that any of his questions would ever find answers. He certainly hadn’t thought that any answers he got would be this maddening. 

Patroclus had made peace with his own death long ago, even before it happened. No one made it out of life alive, and no one wrapped up in the maelstrom of love and glory that was Achilles could expect to age peacefully. Of course, he hadn’t been planning to die. A warrior in his own right, the plan was to put an end to the carnage caused only by pride, earn a few more years unbothered by the whims of the powerful, and return home safely with an “I told you so.” 

Sometimes, plans fail. 

Focused as he was on his so-called hero’s fate of eternal solitude in paradise, Patroclus realized he hadn’t given much thought to the aftermath of his death. A fool’s defense against grief, he now realized, had kept him from wondering about the last days of his love. Until, of course, now- whatever now meant in an endless afterlife. 

Their ashes entombed together, their souls forever apart. Achilles always was a romantic, and a fool. 

Patroclus understands more than the stranger- the Prince- says, or even seems to know. Achilles would want two things: for Patroclus to be happy, and for a purpose even in death. Never mind if Patroclus had earned or even wanted to spend an eternity in Elysium, but he didn’t doubt that Achilles would have found haunting Elysium equally dull. And in either case, they would not be together. So this purgatory of waiting and doubt had been his best option. 

_ Fool.  _ In life, Patroclus had been there to advise against bargains exactly like this one. Ah, well. 

“You tell him to risk it all,” he says to the Prince, and he means it. Hope is rare among the dead, but something about the flash of compassion and determination in the eyes of the Prince has him daring to wonder if change is possible in the underworld. 

***

Achilles had taught Zagreus to never be too proud to accept aid. To dare to defy his fate and the curse of his birth. To challenge the will of Hades himself. Somehow, he had taught the lad all of this, and never expected to be challenged to do the same. To trade  _ tolerable  _ for  _ wonderful  _ at the risk of  _ unthinkable.  _

Risk it all. 

He had never been afraid to risk himself. Even the lives of others had been risked at his command, and in death he had had plenty of time to regret the carelessness with which he treated the lives of others. He had never, ever, put Patroclus at risk- no small task when one’s heart-mate was a warrior and a pragmatist. 

No, his own well-being was not what occupied Achilles’ mind and fed his fears. Leave it to Patroclus to challenge him to be more than he was from worlds apart. He chuckled, softly. He had ignored Patroclus’ last request to him, and it had led to disaster. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

Fear is for the weak…

***

Time as humans understand it didn’t exist in the underworld, and yet the time between Zagreus telling him that the contract had been altered and him seeing Patroclus again was a small eternity in itself. His actions were determined even as his mind warred against itself-  _ he has every right to hate me, I’m the reason he died, I condemned him to loneliness, I didn’t even try to be with him again-  _ but he could no more stop himself from seeking out his love than he could breathe life back into their bodies. 

The soft earth and gentle breezes of Elysium felt strange after so long spent in the cold still marble of the House of Hades. Soft greens and blues replaced rich royal blacks and reds, and the splash of the Lethe bubbled in the background instead of the whispers of shades. Patroclus-

***

“Achilles” 

After so much time spent with a thousand thoughts on his mind, that name was now the only thing ringing through his mind, heart, and body. Leaving his despair and bitterness on the banks of the Lethe, he was by Achilles in an instant. 

His love had sunk to his knees- in shock? Prayer? A plea for forgiveness? No matter. Patroclus was once again beside him, kneeling alongside him, cupping his face in his hands. He watched fear, uncertainty, and regret flash in his eyes, and that wouldn’t do at all. His thumb reflexively wiped away a tear he hadn’t noticed consciously, and the only thing he could manage to say in the moment was his name, once more. 

“Achilles-” 

He wanted to say more- so much to say after so long apart, but there would be time for that later. An eternity for that later. They were together again, and as they embraced, still kneeling, the grief and rage and loneliness of two souls slowly found release in laughter and tears and gentle hands. Neither would be able to say for certain how long they spent drinking in the presence of the other- it would always be too long and yet not long enough. Achilles was the first to speak, finally, a whispered confession into Patroclus’ hair. 

“I lost you twice. I was foolish and headstrong and I- “ he could say no more, and tightened his embrace. 

“Yes, you were,” Patroclus responded lovingly, and Achilles looked up in surprise to see his soulmate smiling fondly at him, “But we are here now because you were brave enough to listen. Achilles, you are my heart and soul and I know you completely. Did you really think I couldn’t forgive you for being headstrong and playing the hero? That all my love for you could be eaten up by resentment?” 

As it had so many times before, Patroclus’ matter-of-fact dissection of the worst parts of Achilles’ heart laid bare how foolish he had been.

“As always, my love, I am deeply in your debt,” he responded, “and I refuse to be too proud to apologize. I should have listened to you in life. I should have given you a choice in death.” 

Patroclus smoothed a hand over Achilles’ hair, grinning properly. 

“You did give me a choice. But, if you must, you do have all of eternity to make it up to me.” 

Achilles laughed, pulled Patroclus into a proper kiss, and a new eternity began. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hades game really said "we're going to reunite one of greek mythology's most tragic couples but leave it mostly up to the player to fill in the blanks" and so I did that in a few thousand words and a lot of feelings. Reuniting these two was more important to me than beating the game proper.


End file.
